diesarock: (Default)
diesarock ([personal profile] diesarock) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowllogs2011-04-01 07:21 am

SOME DAY WE'LL HAVE HAPPINESS that day is not today

WHO: Esper and Chimera
WHERE: Esper's place
WHEN: Sometime between this and now. Pffff who needs timelines NOT ME.
WARNINGS: uh. girltears? and angst. and self-harm! and angst. and girltears.
WHAT: hey you dyed your hai--oh no wait. oh.
WORDS: yes


When she woke up in an unfamiliar place, sore and hurt and frightened, the first thing Terra did was escape, warping straight from one strange room to the roof of the MAC. It was a short hop; wherever it was hadn't been far from where she'd been taken. From there it was simple to warp back into her own apartment, skipping stairwells, hallways, and her own locked door. The worst of the adrenaline had worn off in her sleep, but the muscles in her arms and legs were still sore for the residue. Her ribs throbbed, and she had a headache -- just a dull throb as from slamming head-first into something solid, more external than internal suffering.

Everything was just as she had left it, of course. Dishes still needed to be done, some laundry to be put away, and all the other general maintenance of solitary living -- Terra ignored all this and simply fell back upon her couch, scrubbing hands over her face. It was some effort to wake herself up, but the awakening she found was not one she would have wished. Her hands froze against her face, fur still matted and clumped with dry blood, her face still stinging from wounds not quite healed over.

Memories came like a downpour; of how she had come to be in that strange room, how she'd been able to warp this way and that, and why her body was still not the familiar, human form she desired. Perhaps she should have realized it the very moment she awoke, or at least once she had begun using magic once more after so long without it, but that power had always been natural to her. She had not yet become truly accustomed to its absence. It was not the presence of her magic that forced her upright on the couch, hands shaking and breath seizing and stalling in her throat. It was not even the form she wore now that concerned her most. It was the faces -- the man, the mask, the monster, the girl--

Though Terra's power had long since settled, there was a painful throb through her body at that sudden recollection. How badly had she hurt that girl, she wondered. Had she needed to go to a hospital? Would she still be in one now? Would those scars heal over? Guilt filled her chest with ice; she felt like she was going to throw up, and the seizing up in her breathing as she shook helped nothing. Her eyes would have turned red for crying, if not for the inhuman colors still residing there.

She screamed -- at herself, at her powers even now still shielding her body, at this place for toying with her so -- and with a slap of her hand sent her couch skidding across the floor, flipping backwards in a sudden upkick of wind. A veritable whirlwind came to life in her living room, picking up clothing and dishes, trinkets and weapons and the kitchen table, destroying everything it could touch.

Dishes were shattered against every wall of her apartment, clothes strewn everywhere; the table had smashed so hard against one exterior wall it had dented the latter before it had cracked and splintered; knives were stuck to every wall and stabbed into the couch, one long sword sheathed two thirds to the hilt through her front door. It was luck alone that kept everything else within the apartment; her windows, somehow, went unbroken.

As for Terra herself, the transformation was gone. It was not a blood-spattered monster that fell to her knees behind the flipped-over couch; not a monster with yellowed eyes trying to keep tears from falling. Just a girl, with deep scratches across her face, fingernail gouges up and down her arms, sitting in the middle of an apartment now just as broken-looking as she. Her hair, loose and tangled, was the thick forest green she'd always known.

The only thing untouched by the chaos was her dress: still as pearl-white and fit for a wedding as when the mannequin wore it.
livesarock: (those shoes!)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-01 03:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Zelgadis' ears picked up the scream with little trouble amidst the dull buzzes and hums of electricity from room to room, immediately sending him upright from his reclined position - the heavy indent stayed behind. The communicator that he'd been lazily tapping away on fell to the floor, forgotten. So much for trying to stay up to date. It didn't matter too much - he recognized the voice.

This wasn't good.

The floor beneath him shuddered violently with her outburst as he was heading to the door, causing even his bulk to wobble uneasily. He cringed at the thundering below, gritting his teeth as he backtracked, delaying his descent in favor of being armed.

Definitely not good.

The sound and fury seemed to have stopped by the time he kicked open the door to the stairwell, bypassing the effort with a carelessly-cast levitation spell. He landed heavily, shouldering the impact of the door as he barreled through, clearing the length of the hallway quickly. The shape of the blade poking through the door was confusing, even up close, and he made a face at it before realizing what it was - and what it implied.

Bristled, hand to the hilt, Zelgadis gave the door a heavy shove, murdering yet another MAC lock without thought. The sword lodged in it caused the whole thing to stop very short of swinging open, forcing him to slink inside, the act slowing him down entirely to assess. He had ghost-goosebumps, an uneasy tingling on the back of his neck.

Much of the damage didn't register right away short of the awareness of what a damn mess it all was, because once he zeroed in on Terra's shape, dishes and furniture fell way out of mind.

Despite his form, Zelgadis could move pretty deftly when he wanted to. Two long strides, evading the patches of shattered dinnerware, and he was kneeling at her side, hands out and hovering, ready to react.

"Terra-?!"
livesarock: (THOU RANGST?)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-01 05:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Rather than press for an explanation, Zelgadis redirected his focus on the scratches on her face and arms. He pursed his lips, waiting for her hands to drop away enough for his own to move in. His movements were careful and slow, cupping her cheek with his palm while his other hand dangled, arm resting on his knee. Enough trouble in the past gave him the experience to call up his healing spell without a word; nowhere near the skill of Amelia or Sylphiel, his light was faint, but warm. It coaxed her body to patch up the wounds, draining only what stamina it would've taken over time to do the same.
livesarock: (nah he ain't even gangster see)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-01 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
When much of the damage had vanished from sight, Zelgadis retracted his hand, palm pressing against the floor as he shifted to settle on both knees.

"Who did all this?" he asked, head jerking faintly to denote the trainwreck of the room. "Did someone attack you?"
livesarock: (i ain't even mad tho)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-01 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, hell. Zelgadis wasn't all that acquainted with a Terra-style temper tantrum or any of the sort, so it was news to him. There were no eyebrows to raise, however. He nodded a little, giving the walls a wary glance-around. Had anyone been nearby...
livesarock: (i cannot keyword to save my life anymore)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-01 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Zelgadis' attention fixed back on Terra at her comment, frowning. There was a lot to question, like how the hell she got her magic back when he'd gone out and destroyed its source. But it wasn't something he was all that excited to get at right away, not with the threat of more crying way too close.

Of course, other than retaliate to some unknown "she", he wasn't much for consolation. Doing before saying. But there wasn't much he could think to do or say about that remark that was all that useful. He had to stifle the urge to make a deadpan comment on how there was only one of those types in the room and it wasn't her.

But that didn't sound too good in his head, so it was probably better left unsaid.

"Can you move?" he prompted at last, starting to shift himself.
livesarock: (rottentomatoes said it sucked)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-01 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, hell no. Zelgadis wasn't touching that mess for a while. Or at all, if he had any say in the matter and didn't later feel guilty for not helping. He had Terra by the elbow for the time she had him by the shoulder, moving sideways and stepping over more of the mess to get back to the door, pulling it open as far as her poor, lodged-in sword would allow and let her pass through first.

Nothing good came from sitting around in a pile of your own destruction, he figured.
livesarock: (hold up)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-01 09:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Zelgadis matched pace with her for the time that it took to get to the stairwell, pushing the door open and letting her go first. It was a relief when it was clear she knew where to go without him having to say anything - for some reason let's go to my apartment felt pretty damn wrong for the moment. He wasn't dwelling on it; the stomp of feet upstairs was a lot more interesting at the moment.

As always, his door required only a slight nudge to push open - something he'd gotten into the habit of doing with his foot. He sauntered in, stopping halfway into the room to look back over his shoulder, though he knew she was already there.
livesarock: (THAT LADY GAGA)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-02 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
The silence stretched to a near-uncomfortable length before Zelgadis shifted back into motion, finally acknowledging his abandoned communicator and bending to pick it up. With something else to look at, turned halfway away from her, it was easier to speak.

"You can stay here," he said, mouth tugging at a grimace that he fought. "I can go back and get whatever you want from down there, but you can stay here for a while."
livesarock: (bitch claimed the whole freakin box)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-02 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
The response was enough for him. Zelgadis nodded down at the device, turning it over as though there were anything of interest on the other side, setting it on a table along his way toward the bedroom.

He used the time there to try and come up with some kind of reflection as well as a game plan. The last girl that moved on in did it of her own accord, so he had little say in the matter, but...The routine wouldn't be much different, he supposed. So long as Terra wasn't as horrible a sleeper as Lina. The fact that he knew she wasn't sank like a bag of bricks in his gut and colored the rest of his thought process in a very unproductive shade. He huffed aloud and shook his head at himself, snatching the pillows and covers off the bed and dragging them out, returning to the main living area where they were dropped and draped on the sofa. His face was still contorted with his shut up you idiot internal monologue, spurring him to retreat yet again with some half-baked purpose.
livesarock: (i ain't even mad tho)

[personal profile] livesarock 2011-04-04 08:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Zelgadis took his time in disarming, trying to use the task as a means of refocusing his attention. He was over-thinking. There was nothing outlandish about what he was doing - any teasing that'd come out of it wouldn't be targeting some secret motive, just jabs to get a rise out of him. And even that was being overthought; Lina wasn't here to supply him with torment.

Definitely over-thinking.

He set the sword down along with its belt, fidgeting with it in an almost obsessive-compulsive fashion until he decided there was little reason to continue, ending his distraction. He sighed, sending a slow gaze back to the door. Time to relinquish the...

Oh.

Wait.

Why did he tear off all the covers if it was going to be used by someone?

He had a vexed look on his face when he came skulking back out, grimacing at the sheets still draped where he'd set them. It took another few steps closer to notice that Terra'd already taken over the couch, contrary to what he'd intended. He sucked in a breath, preparing to say something, but bit down on it and exhaling with a sigh.

A flicking gesture with his hand sent one of the sheets off the back and over her unevenly as he passed by, retrieving a pair of books and pen from the table. He made no announcements as he wandered back to the bedroom. They were better distractions than home decorating.